WHO FOLLOW 
THE FLAG 




HENRY 
VANDYKE 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

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WHO FOLLOW THE FLAG 



WHO FOLLOW THE FLAG 



PHI BETA KAPPA POEM 

HARVARD UNIVERSITY 

JUNE I9IO 



BY 

HENRY VAN DYKE 



CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
NEW YORK - - MCMXI 



^<h 






Copyright, ipn, by 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



Published May, 191 1 




©CLA280435 




WHO FOLLOW THE FLAG 



WHO FOLLOW THE FLAG 



All day long in the city's canyon-street, 
With its populous cliffs alive on either side, 
I saw a river of marching men like a tide 
Flowing after the flag: and the rhythmic beat 
Of the drums, and the bugles' resonant blare 
Metred the tramp, tramp, tramp of a myriad 

feet, 
While the red-white-and-blue was fluttering 

everywhere, 
And the heart of the crowd kept time to a 

martial air : 

O brave flag, bright flag, flag to lead the free! 
The glory of thy silver stars, 
ILngrailed in blue above the bars 
Of red for courage, white for truth, 
Have brought the world a second youth 

And drawn a hundred million hearts to follow 
after thee. 

I 



II 



Old Cambridge saw thee first unfurled, 
By Washington's far-reaching hand, 
To greet, in Seventy-six, the wintry morn 
Of a new year, and herald to the world 
Glad tidings from a Western land, — 
A people and a hope new-born! 
The double cross then filled thine azure field, 
In token of a spirit loath to yield 
The breaking ties that bound thee to a throne. 
But not for long thine oriflamme could bear 
That symbol of an outworn trust in kings. 
The wind that bore thee out on widening wings 
Called for a greater sign and all thine own, — 
A new device to speak of heavenly laws 
And lights that surely guide the people's cause. 
Oh, greatly did they hope, and greatly dare, 
Who bade the stars in heaven fight for them, 
And set upon their battle-flag a fair 
New constellation as a diadem! 
Along the blood-stained banks of Brandywine 
The ragged regiments were rallied to this sign; 

2 



Through Saratoga's woods it fluttered bright 

Amid the perils of the hard-won fight; 

O'er Yorktown's meadows broad and green 

It hailed the glory of the final scene; 

And when at length Manhattan saw 

The last invaders' line of scarlet coats 

Pass Bowling Green, and fill the waiting boats, 

And sullenly withdraw, 

The flag that proudly flew 

Above the battered line of buff and blue, 

Marching, with rattling drums and shrilling 

pipes, 
Along the Bowery and down Broadway, 
Was this that leads the great parade to-day,— 
The glorious banner of the stars and stripes. 

First of the flags of earth to dare 

A heraldry so high; 
First of the flags of earth to bear 

The blazons of the sky; 
Long may thy constellation glow. 

Foretelling happy fate ; 
Wider thy starry circle grow, — 

And every star a State/ 



Ill 



Pass on, pass on, ye flashing files 
Of men who march in militant array; 
Ye thrilling bugles, throbbing drums, 
Ring out, roll on, and die away; 
And fade, ye crowds, with the fading day! 
Around the city's lofty piles 
Of steel and stone 
The lilac veil of dusk is thrown, 
Entangled full of sparks of fairy light; 
And the never-silent heart of the city hums 
To a homeward-turning tune before the night. 
But far above, on the sky-line's broken height, 
From all the towers and domes outlined 
In gray and gold along the city's crest, 
I see the rippling flag still take the wind 
With a promise of coming good for all man- 
kind. 



IV 



O banner of the West, 

No proud and brief parade, 

That glorifies a nation's holiday 

With show of troops for warfare dressed 

Can rightly measure or display 

The mighty army thou hast made 

Loyal to guard thy more than royal sway. 

Millions have come across the sea 

To find beneath thy shelter room to grow; 

Millions were born beneath thy folds and 

know 
No other flag but thee; 
And other, darker millions bore the yoke 
Of bondage in thy borders till the voice 
Of Lincoln spoke, 

And sent thee forth to set the bondmen free. 
Rejoice, dear flag, rejoice ! 
Since thou hast proved and passed that bitter 

strife, 

5 



Richer thy red with blood of heroes wet, 

Purer thy white through sacrificial life, 

Brighter thy blue wherein new stars are set! 

Thou art become a sign, 

Revealed in heaven to speak of things divine : 

Of Truth that dares 

To slay the lie it sheltered unawares ; 

Of Courage fearless in the fight, 

Yet ever quick its foemen to forgive ; 

Of Conscience earnest to maintain its right 

And gladly grant the same to all who live. 

Thy staff is deeply planted in the fact 

That nothing can ennoble man 

Save his own act, 

And naught can make him worthy to be free 

But practice in the school of liberty. 

The cords are two that lift thee to the sky: 

Firm faith in God, the King who rules on 

high; 
And never-failing trust 
In human nature, full of faults and flaws, 
Yet ever-answering to the inward call 
That bids it set the ( ( ought ' ' above the c ' must ' ' ; 
In all its errors wiser than it seems, 
In all its failures full of generous dreams, 

6 



Through endless conflict rising without pause 
To self-dominion, charactered in laws 
That pledge fair-play alike to great and small, 
And equal rights for each beneath the rule 

of all. 
These are thy halyards, banner bold, 
And while these hold, 

Thy brightness from the sky shall never fall, 
Thy broadening empire never knowdecrease,— 
Thy strength is union and thy glory peace. 



Look forth across thy widespread lands, 
O flag, and let thy stars to-night be eyes 
To see the visionary hosts 
Of men and women grateful to be thine, 
That joyfully arise 
From all thy borders and thy coasts, 
And follow after thee in endless line ! 
They lift to thee a forest of saluting hands; 
They hail thee with a rolling ocean-roar 
Of cheers; and as the echo dies, 
There comes a sweet and moving song 
Of treble voices from the childish throng 
Who run to thee from every school-house door. 
Behold thine army! Here thy power lies: 
The men whom freedom has made strong, 
And bound to follow thee by willing vows ; 
The women greatened by the joys 
Of motherhood to rule a happy house; 
The vigorous girls and boys, 

8 



Whose eager faces and unclouded brows 

Foretell the future of a noble race, 

Rich in the wealth of wisdom and true worth ! 

While millions such as these to thee belong, 

What foe can do thee wrong, 

What jealous rival rob thee of thy place 

Foremost of all the flags of earth? 



VI 



My vision darkens as the night descends ; 
And through the mystic atmosphere 
I feel the creeping coldness that portends 
A change of spirit in my dream. 
The multitude that moved with song and cheer 
Have vanished, yet a living stream 
Flows on and follows still the flag, 
But silent now, with leaden feet that lag 
And falter in the deepening gloom, — 
A weird battalion bringing up the rear. 
Ah, who are these on whom the vital bloom 
Of life has withered to the dust of doom? 
These little pilgrims prematurely worn 
And bent as if they bore the weight of years? 
These childish faces, pallid and forlorn, 
Too dull for laughter and too hard for tears? 
Is this the ghost of that insane crusade 
That led ten thousand children long ago, 
A flock of innocents, deceived, betrayed, 

10 



Yet pressing on through want and woe 
To meet their fate, faithful and unafraid? 
Nay, for a million children now 
Are marching in the long pathetic line, 
With weary step and early wrinkled brow; 
And at their head appears no holy sign 
Of hope in heaven ; 
For unto them is given 
No cross to carry, but a cross to drag. 
Before their strength is ripe they bear 
The load of labour, toiling underground 
In dangerous mines and breathing heavy air 
Of crowded shops ; their tender lives are bound 
To service of the whirling, clattering wheels 
That fill the factories with dust and noise ; 
They are not girls and boys, 
But little "hands" who blindly, dumbly feed 
With their own blood the hungry god of Greed. 
Robbed of their natural joys, 
And wounded with a scar that never heals, 
They stumble on with heavy-laden soul, 
And fall by thousands on the highway lined 
With little graves, or reach at last their goal 
Of stunted manhood and embittered age, 
To brood awhile with dark and troubled mind, 

ii 



Beside the smouldering fire of sullen rage, 
On life's unfruitful work and niggard wage. 
Are these the regiments that Freedom rears 
To serve her cause in coming years? 
Nay, every life that Avarice doth maim 
And beggar in the helpless days of youth, 
Shall surely claim 

A just revenge, and take it without ruth; 
And every soul denied the right to grow 
Beneath the flag, shall be its secret foe. 
Bow down, dear land, in penitence and shame! 
Remember now thine oath, so nobly sworn, 
To guard an equal lot 
For every child within thy borders born : 
These are thy children whom thou hast forgotl 
They have the bitter right to live, but not 
The blessed right to look for happiness. 
O lift thy liberating hand once more, 
To loose thy little ones from dark duress ; 
The vital gladness to their hearts restore 
In healthful lessons and in happy play; 
And set them free to climb the upward way 
That leads to self-reliant nobleness. 
Speak out, my country, speak at last, 
As thou hast spoken in the past, 

12 



And clearly, bravely say: 

My power shall defend 

The coming race on whom my hopes depend: 

Henceforward on my sacred soil 

No child shall bear the crushing yoke of toil. 



13 



VII 

Look up, look up, ye downcast eyes! 
The night is almost gone : 
Along the new horizon flies 
The banner of the dawn; 
The eastern sky is banded low 
With white and crimson bars, 
And far above the morning glow 
The everlasting stars. 

bright flag, O brave flag, O flag to lead the free! 
The hand of God thy colours blent, 
And heaven to earth thy glory lent, 
To shield the weak, and guide the strong 
To make an end of human wrong, 

And draw a countless human host to follow after 
thee! 



H 



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